Every time I think we’ve finished and I’m laid out on the deck facing north, south, east or west, he starts all over again and this continues until about 5 a.m. when I finally tell him to leave me the hell alone so I can get some sleep.
He goes out like a light snoring like Darth Vader with a sinus problem and I stuff my ear plugs in and when the room eventually stops spinning, I close my eyes and drift away.
After a couple of hours, we start again and make love intermittently between 8 a.m. and midday. I then get up v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y and cook us a full English breakfast. He showers, gets dressed, hugs me affectionately and goes off to watch the football.
About an hour after he leaves, I receive an MMS from him: his hand grasping the engorged base of his fully erect penis. I’m a bit surprised it isn’t nesting quietly against his inner thigh, considering the night it’s had, and am rather taken aback by the ensuring video clip of him pleasuring himself. I can hardly walk and he’s at it the minute he gets home!
I text him to stop being a dirty, little bugger as I'm barely firing on half a cylinder and stumble through the next couple of hours tidying up my flat which looks like The International Festival du Fuck has just taken place.
Later I go to the cinema to see Away from Her where I promptly fall asleep missing the central theme of the plot. It’s about a long-married couple, the wife of whom puts herself in a home due to impending Alzheimer’s. I can’t relate to the long-married bit at all… and it would be too sad to contract Alzheimer's and forget all these delicious experiences. Just as well I’m writing them down.
I go to bed early but am woken just after midnight by another text from Cute Face, offering to come over again. I’ll save him for next Saturday. My tender nethers need to convalesce.
Monday. Cute Face texts me on and off all day and when I get home, I suggest he may want to come shopping with me at the weekend to help me choose a a new TV. You’d have thought I’d offered him a shared stateroom on a Caribbean cruise with Angelina Jolie and her twin sister!
God you really know how to get a man going’ he exudes. Electronics shopping…Absolutely!! Bring it on x
He suggests I go for the SkyHD enabled, 72” flat screen, surround-sound VHRAM home cinema thingy, and I tell him all he has to do is put it in the car, carry it up the stairs, install it and teach the Victorian woman how it works. Then I might make him a cup of tea.
'Tea is the only reward I want…' he replies '...that and to ravish your sexy naked body.
You don’t get that at John Lewis. No matter how Never Knowingly Undersold they are.
Now some people might question the fact that a 28-year old is complimenting me on my ‘sexy naked body’ at the age of 62, but I have it on good authority (unforgiving mirror, ex-lovers who come back for more) that it’s not that bad. At least no one’s ever asked for their money back, and frankly, when a man’s blood lust has headed south, I don't think it matters if you're Scarlett Johanssen or a watermelon.
Tuesday. The day begins with a good morning text from Cute Face.
I can’t get rid of my raging horn. You must have warped me, Salisbury.
Methinks it’s all in your mind, young sir... I reply.
The messages degenerate throughout the day into graphic sexual detail
(I wish I had my tongue in your pussy right now… I’m absolutely longing to be inside you and fuck you any way you want me to…I want to feel your cum on my rock hard cock… ) and so on and so forth. He's angling for another invitation before next Saturday. He won’t get it.
My long-term married lover of some thirty years makes one of his occasional calls and asks me if I want to ‘come out to play’ with him and his mistress. We’ve done this once before as I am occasionally partial to a little girl-on-girl action - isn’t everyone?? I decline however. I have enough going on and I can always pick this offer up some other time when the cupboard is bare.
In any case, I reason, what I’m doing now is just biding my time until I begin my Proper Relationship with CC at which point I will drop everyone and everything and commit myself to coupledom.
Self-delusion is alive and well and living in West London.
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